A/N: Smutty smut smut. And also, plot. Enjoy!

Thursday's rehearsal began no different than Tuesday's, except that Shelby was the one to lock the door and pull the shade. That, and Santana had brought a blanket in her backpack to put on the floor.

"We need to stop doing this at school," Shelby said quietly as they caught their breath.

"Then let me come over," Santana replied, running her hands over Shelby's partially disrobed body, lying both on top of and next to her.

"I didn't mean to be keeping you away; I've just had some projects I needed to try to focus on. I'm sorry." She played with the pleats in Santana's red and white Cheerios skirt. "You're a cheerleader."

"I'm a cheerleader, yes," Santana replied. This wasn't new information.

"Why are cheerleaders so sexy?"

Santana smiled and wondered if they would rehearse at all today when Shelby's hands moved under the skirt to hold her backside, pulling her closer.

"Because we know how to get people excited." She felt Shelby roll her hips against her thigh, eyes falling closed. "We know how to scream."

"Shh," Shelby exhaled rolling her hips against Santana again.

Santana's heart raced. This was getting ridiculous. "We tell you what to do."

Shelby bit her lip. "Tell me."

"Gimme an S," Santana said, amused by Shelby being lost in the moment.

"S," she repeated.

"Gimme a T."

"T."

"Gimme an…O," Santana smiled, and Shelby laughed, not completely gone.

"I just did."

"Gimme a P."

"P."

"What's that spell?"

"Stop. Wait, what?" Shelby opened her eyes, bewilderment on her face.

"It's gotta be almost 3:00. We need to stop."

Shelby mumbled her disapproval, but nodded. Santana wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight.

"Plus, this floor is killing me."

Painful as it was, she managed to get up and help Shelby back to her feet. They redressed quickly and stuffed the blanket into Santana's backpack. Noting the time, Shelby took her place at the piano, Santana alongside, and they picked up "All That Jazz" as though they'd been playing it for the last twenty minutes.

At 3:00, the anticipated knock came, but the door rattled against the deadbolt when Sugar tried to open it. Santana rushed over and unlocked it, opening the door for her. "Hey, sorry."

"Why's it locked?" Sugar asked, oblivious.

"So you wouldn't barge into my rehearsal like last time," Santana said pointedly.

Sugar only shrugged. "My turn."

"Bye, Ms. Corcoran," Santana said, twisting her hips a little to make her cheer skirt move.

She saw Shelby's eyes snap from her skirt to her face, and then smile. "See you later, Santana."

She didn't hear from Shelby that night as she had hoped. She had to argue with herself about texting her, but she knew she needed to be patient.

After school on Friday, she took the longer route to the parking lot, the one that would take her past Shelby's choir room. The door was closed but the shade was up – she saw (and heard) Mercedes singing, Shelby accompanying her at the piano as usual. She hesitated at the door, moving a little until she caught Shelby's eye. Santana smiled and raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry. Tonight?

Shelby nodded and returned her attention to Mercedes.

Satisfied, Santana went home and packed.

A few hours later, while she was lying on her stomach in bed reading her American History textbook – she found she had a bit of a passion for it now – her phone chimed. She smiled knowingly and closed the book.

"I'm waiting."

Santana was already on her way out the door. "Not for long."

"Hurry."

"Don't start without me."

She nearly swerved off the road when she checked the reply that came a few minutes later. "No promises."

When she pulled up to Shelby's condo, she noticed her SUV was parked on the street and her garage open, empty. Unsure, she reversed and pulled into the garage, bringing her weekend duffle bag with her as she climbed the stairs. She couldn't help but wonder just how serious Shelby was being with her texts. She could barely process the concept of walking in on Shelby…

She knocked, and Shelby answered disappointingly quickly.

She quit being disappointed when Shelby pulled her inside and immediately pressed her back against the door to kiss her until Santana was breathless.

"Hi, baby," Shelby said when she was satisfied with their kiss. She took Santana's bag and put it over her own shoulder. "I've been waiting to do that all day."

That was new. "Baby?"

"Oh no," Shelby said, full of concern. "It just came out. I'm sorry."

Santana felt the word sink in. It made her blush. It made her giddy. "It's okay. I like it. I was just surprised."

"Are you sure?"

Santana nodded. "More than sure. Hey I parked in the garage, I wasn't sure if that's why you were parked on the street? I can go trade our cars for you if you want."

"No, I did that on purpose." Shelby pushed a button on the intercom by her door, closing the garage door. "I didn't want one of the other girls happening by and seeing your car here. I don't want them thinking I'm giving you special treatment."

"No, no special treatment at all," Santana said, laughing.

Shelby grinned. "Okay. Come on. I've been waiting for you." Shelby took her hand and led Santana through the living room into her bedroom where she dropped Santana's bag on what had become her side of the bed last weekend.

Santana reached to pull her close when she stopped and turned, but Shelby sidestepped her, leading her back out to the living room where she promptly sat down on the couch, bringing Santana with her.

"What…"

"I've been wanting to watch this with you all week." Shelby pointed the remote at her television and turned it on, followed by the DVD player. A few seconds later, the menu screen for Chicago came up.

"We're…watching a movie?" Santana tried to hide her disappointment. She really was just glad to be spending time with Shelby outside the oppressive walls of school, but she would have preferred spending it another way. Preferably horizontally. In a comfortable bed.

Shelby curled up on the couch, using Santana's lap as a pillow. It was all Santana could do to refrain from sighing in exasperation and instead lay her arm across Shelby's to link their fingers.

"I want you to start thinking more about your performance. It's two weeks away."

"I'm not really worried about it, but if this is what you want to do…"

"It is," Shelby replied, kissing the back of Santana's hand.

"What happened to that whole 'cheerleaders telling you what to do' thing from yesterday?"

"Later. Shh."

Santana just shook her head and settled in to watch the movie, trying to ignore the aching desire in her belly.

She had to admit that she really did like the movie – she always had, and it was nice to have a refresher viewing. She found herself taking all kinds of mental performance notes: things she could do with her voice, with her choreography, with her acting. In fact, she was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice that Shelby and turned her back on the TV and had lifted up Santana's shirt to place kisses along her belly at the waistband of her jeans. She didn't notice it until Shelby unzipped them and said her name.

Santana glanced down at her name, and then everything registered. "Oh," she said quietly.

"Hi," Shelby said as she slid her hand under Santana's shirt, first to her breast, then behind her to unhook her bra, then back to her breast.

Her heart pounded. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it off, followed by her bra. She didn't need to be asked twice, or even once.

Shelby smiled and turned onto her stomach, tugging awkwardly at Santana's jeans. "Take these off."

Santana lifted her hips and pushed her jeans down and kicked them off. She realized that she was completely naked, sitting on the couch, with Shelby tantalizingly close. She squeezed her legs together, desire rushing over her.

"No, no, don't do that," Shelby said pulling Santana's right knee toward her. She dropped her head and kissed the top of her thigh, inching her way higher. When she grazed her fingers between her legs, Santana moaned – grateful for her touch and grateful that she didn't have to be completely silent. She closed her eyes and dropped her head to the back of the couch. She didn't care what Shelby did. She didn't need to see her. She just needed her to not stop.

She felt Shelby's lips travel over the sensitive line between her thigh and hip, and then a tongue dart against her. She moaned again and felt Shelby slide off the couch and move to kneel on the floor - her hair was soft against her thighs, breath warm against her wetness, tongue hot against her desire.

As much as they had made love – at least a dozen times in a week – Shelby had never done this. Santana had craved it, ached for it even, but never asked. It was worth the anticipation.

She was gentle, but anything but hesitant, driving Santana crazy, working her up so slowly. She let her hand rest on Shelby's head, resisting the urge to pull her closer.

Just when she thought she was going to lose her mind with desire, she felt her legs lift slightly and come to rest over Shelby's shoulders. She felt hands on her waist, and then she was jerked closer, suddenly feeling like she was being consumed.

"Fuck," Santana groaned. She pushed herself against Shelby and heard – and felt – a muffled response. It only turned her on more, and she quit holding back, rocking her hips quickly.

Her moans were coming fast, and it was all she could do to keep them at a volume she hoped wouldn't wake a sleeping baby. It was made all the more difficult that Shelby was moaning, too, and she had noticed that Shelby was only holding onto her with one hand now. She could imagine what was happening, but she wanted to know.

"Are you touching yourself?" she asked, tangling her fingers in Shelby's hair.

Shelby moaned.

"Are you?"

She felt warm breath against her, briefly, before the tongue was back. "Yes."

"Oh God," Santana groaned. She'd never been so turned on in her life and it brought on her climax immediately. It was strong and made her want to curl up and cry from pleasure.

When she could think again, she heard Shelby, still breathing hard and felt her shoulder still moving under her knee in that telling rhythm. She put her feet back on the ground and sat up a little, reaching for Shelby's arms to pull her up.

"Come up here." She finally opened her eyes as Shelby climbed onto the couch to straddle her lap. Somehow, at some point, Shelby had undressed. She hadn't even noticed. She didn't care; only one thing mattered now – Shelby. She ran her hands over Shelby's bare legs, feeling wetness on her thighs. Shelby was really turned on, and had been for some time it seemed. She let her hand graze between her legs and then rest her hands on the backs of her thighs.

Shelby's eyes were crazed, almost glassy with desire. She moaned at Santana's touch and pressed herself against her hand, whimpering when she took it away.

"Touch yourself for me."

Shelby started to shake her head, but Santana ran her hand between her legs again.

"Please?"

"Santana…" She could tell Shelby wanted to, was fighting the urge. Her hips were already moving in rhythm.

"Remember what I said about cheerleaders telling you what to do?"

Shelby sighed and dragged her nails up her own thighs.

"Touch yourself."

She did. With a moan she sank lower into Santana's lap, one hand between her own legs, the other on Santana's shoulder. Her head was thrown back in seconds, earlier hesitation forgotten to pleasure.

Santana sat back – as much as she could in their position – and watched. She couldn't believe this, couldn't believe how much they turned each other on, how Shelby seemed to like to be told what to do. It was all so damn hot that Santana knew she was going to have to do exactly what Shelby was doing, or beg Shelby to do it for her, when this was finished. There was no way she could sleep without finding relief after this. She watched, trying to focus enough to learn exactly how Shelby liked to be touched, but it was near impossible.

Santana moved her hands to Shelby's waist, helping to keep her from falling backwards, as she seemed about to do. Shelby lifted her head and sought out Santana's eyes.

"Please."

"Please?" Santana asked, bewildered.

"Let me," Shelby said, her voice pleading. "Please."

"You've been waiting for me to give you permission?" Santana was incredulous. She didn't think Shelby had taken her so seriously.

"Please, Santana. Please."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." Santana covered Shelby's hand with her own. "Do it, let go for me."

Shelby's reaction was instant, and loud. She fell forward, her body pulsing against Santana's. She was loud – too loud – and Santana heard Beth start crying. She heard Shelby's sob a moment later, and arms wrap tight around her neck. Perplexed, Santana wrapped hers around Shelby's waist, holding her as she cried.

"I'm sorry," Shelby said after a few seconds. "I…that was just…really powerful," she said with a laugh, sitting back to push tears off her face. "And I had to go and wake up the baby."

"It's okay," Santana said, unsure of what else there was to say. She stroked Shelby's back and Shelby brought their mouths together, kissing her slowly.

"I better go check on her."

Santana nodded, struggling to keep her renewed arousal under control. Shelby climbed off her lap and slipped her T-shirt back on, disappearing into Beth's room after washing her hands at the kitchen sink.

Santana scrubbed at her face with her hands. They were so good together, so passionate – she hadn't expected that when she first hit on her at the Lima Bean a week ago. They'd sparked so fast; she hoped they wouldn't fizzle just as quickly.

Left alone, Santana noticed the TV was still on, the Chicago menu screen playing on loop. She found the remote on the floor and turned off the television. She distracted herself by gathering their scattered clothes and taking them to the bedroom – she dropped hers by her bag and Shelby's in the hamper in the closet before rifling through her bag to find her bathroom toiletries. She was excited to have her own toothbrush this weekend and not the stiff dentist-visit spare that Shelby had given her last time.

After washing up, Santana climbed into bed, still fighting a quiet battle with her lingering arousal. She was set on ignoring it and was almost asleep when the bed dipped behind her and an arm snaked around her waist. She felt lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Sleepy already?"

Santana hummed, running her hand down Shelby's arm. "Not really."

"Then why are you all tucked in?"

Santana turned her head to look at Shelby out the corner of her eye. She was grinning. "Trying to ignore that I got turned on again watching you," she replied with a shrug.

"And my bed is really the best place to do that?"

Shelby had a point. Santana laughed and turned her head back, gently tugging on Shelby's hand to move it lower. She felt Shelby's arm flex and resist.

Santana whined and pulled again. "Don't make me beg."

"Oh, I think that's only fair. I've done my share of begging." Shelby was placing kisses along Santana's neck, but refusing to let her arm be moved.

"You think I'm not above begging?"

"Are you?"

Santana turned her head again, twisting her back a little to see Shelby properly. "No."

Shelby smiled and Santana pulled her into a kiss, moving her tongue over Shelby's without pausing and then pulled away, eyes heavy with desire.

"Please." Santana tried to push Shelby's hand down again.

"That's it?"

Santana whimpered. "Please touch me."

"Not very convincing."

"I need you." Santana felt Shelby's arm start to give way and moved to kiss her again, pausing before sealing their mouths together. "Inside me."

This time, Shelby let her push her hand all the way down into waiting heat.

Santana was wound so tightly that her release was immediate, and brief, but relieving just the same. After a few seconds, she turned onto her back so she could look up at Shelby – just the way she liked.

"What?" Shelby asked quietly.

"Nothing," Santana said. She felt like she might be strapping into that roller coaster again.

"Liar." Shelby brushed a lock of hair off Santana's forehead. "What are you thinking about?"

Santana hesitated, apprehensive. She relaxed a little when Shelby laid her hand over hers and smiled, no hint of concern on her face – just…peace.

"It's just…this is really…amazing, and –"

"It is," Shelby interrupted. "Sorry, go on."

"And I didn't really expect this. But that's ok," she added quickly, not wanting worry to invade Shelby's serene eyes. "It's just really…intense. And I feel like…all these feelings…and I don't know what to do…" Santana felt her eyes welling with tears and turned her head.

She heard shifting beside her and felt herself pulled close. "What kind of feelings?" Her voice was quiet, just above a whisper.

Santana shrugged and put her hand over Shelby's. "I don't know."

She knew what she thought she felt, but it was too soon. This was too complicated already; she didn't need feelings getting all tangled up with whatever was happening between them.

"Well," Shelby said, moving to kiss Santana's cheek. "When you know, I hope you'll tell me."

Santana nodded and closed her eyes, still not able to look at Shelby. Her wall was down, and she didn't know how quickly she could rebuild it.

"Are you ready for bed?"

Santana lifted and dropped her head on her pillow. "Already here."

Shelby squeezed her hand and rolled away, disappearing into the bathroom for a few minutes.

By the time she returned, Santana was fast asleep.